


Real (Peter Parker one shot)

by revengingbarnes



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Reader is Tony Stark's Daughter, Stark!Reader, THIS IS DEPRESSING, imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 13:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16975239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revengingbarnes/pseuds/revengingbarnes
Summary: Peter and the reader are reunited after the events of Infinity War





	Real (Peter Parker one shot)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for @peeterparkr‘s writing challenge on Tumblr! My prompt is in bold. Hope y’all enjoy x

The clicking of the spoon against the plate was too loud in the silence of the kitchen. You hated it because it drew attention to you. And you wanted to be as unnoticeable as possible right now. Because soon enough, they would realize you were just pushing food around instead of eating. And you’d rather not get into that argument.

You could feel both pairs of eyes boring into your head, but you kept your gaze lowered in hopes that they would realize you didn’t want to talk.

You should have taken into account who your dad was before you formed that hope though.

“Y/N.” He spoke up, making your entire body tense. His voice was soft, bordering on cautious. Your heart squeezed at the thought that your own dad didn’t know how to talk to you anymore.

That was your fault though.

“Sweetheart, you have to eat.” He continued. “It’s been a week since your last proper meal. You can’t live on a few bites every day.”

_Maybe I don’t want to live._

You didn’t say it. You weren’t heartless. You couldn’t hurt him like that. His voice remained steady and slow, just like it always was when he wanted to prevent an extreme reaction. Just like it was when he had first delivered the news.

_You paced the building, heart caught in your throat as you dialed the same number for the hundredth time, only to get the same response. Out of reach._

_You looked at the TV where the reporter was still screaming, eyes blown and terrified as footage after footage of people turning to dust played in the background. Your eyes met Pepper’s, who had already started crying, dialing numbers in the same frenzy as you._

_“Pepper-” Your voice caught and she rushed to you, shushing you as her warm arms enveloped your body. You let her hug you, frozen in panic._

_“Mr. Stark has now entered the building.” The AI sounded and you cried out in relief, rushing to the elevator and haphazardly slamming buttons that would let you get down quicker._

_He was there as you burst through the elevators to the ground floor, Pepper in tow. He was sporting a bruise on his cheek, another on his neck. His clothes were disheveled with sweat and mud. His right hand was covered with a strange, black powdery material._

_Your body collided with his and you hugged him tight, body heaving with sobs. Pepper was right behind you, crying just as hard._

_He didn’t hug back._

_He tugged at your arms to pull you away, looking at you. His eyes were coated with a sheen of tears._

_“Y/N.” He said, voice soft as a whisper. “We need to talk.”_

It was the same tone this time, and it did nothing but bring back extremely painful memories. You screwed your eyes shut, breathing deep to try and not cry. You couldn’t deal with this. You couldn’t.

So you left. The chair made a scraping noise as you stood up, moving to leave the kitchen. Your feet carried you straight to your room as both your dad and Pepper called for you to come back. You didn’t listen.

……………….

For the last three months, your room had been your safe haven. When you lay on the plush mattress, the white sheets brushing your skin, and closed your eyes, you could almost pretend that he was still here, right next to you. You could almost hear his soft exhales as he slept. You could almost feel his warmth seep into your body as he shifted in his sleep to unconsciously pull you closer. You loved that. You loved that even when his mind was not actively thinking, you meant enough for him to crave your touch.

You loved everything about him, but a few things took the cake.

Like how he’d look at you when he thought you didn’t notice, and how his face would burn red when you would catch him staring. Or the times he’d force you to read to him while he cuddled you aggressively, head on your chest and arms tight around your waist. He’d nuzzle into you until you ran your fingers through his hair, sighing and stilling at the action. You’d snort and tell him he was like a little puppy.

Sometimes when you stared up at the blank ceiling, all those moments didn’t seem so far away.

You had hoped to achieve that same result this time, but today you were particularly restless. Something felt out of place, more so than usual. You didn’t bother changing as you were already in baggy comfortable clothes. Clothes that belonged to him, but you chose to ignore the fact that you’d rather die than peel his shirt off your body. Instead, you flopped down on the bed, not even having the energy to find a comfortable posture. You just started blankly at the wall you were facing.

It was a little creak, so familiar and so welcome to your ears. Ears that were starved to hear that noise. You were sure you were slipping back into your state of daydream, where you would imagine the hundreds of times he would sneak into your room through the same window, the sill creaking just slightly under his weight. You pictured the worried and nervous expression on his face while you’d assure him that your room was entirely under your control.

_“I hacked the security systems in my room a long time ago.’_  You would giggle as you’d pull him to you, melting his worries away when your lips met. He would sigh into your mouth and the rest of the conversation was history.

But the creaking felt too real this time. The air shifted and your back tensed at the feeling, knowing this was no dream. You turned where you lay, eyes catching the lean figure silhouetted by the moonlight outside. It was too familiar. It was too  _real_.

You sat up, eyes not leaving the figure before you. Your movements were as slow as you could keep them, standing up, eyes unblinking. You were too scared that this vision would disappear if you disrupted it. You were too scared that this was all a dream.

Sensing motion, the lamps on your either side of your bed clicked on, flooding the room with soft, yellow light. It fell on his face, contouring his cheekbones and jaw. You let out a strangled gasp, stumbling a bit in shock.

“ **Don’t freak out**.” He spoke, the sound of his voice making you reel further. Your body pushed forward and your hands reached up, cupping his face, running over his features and trying to convince yourself this wasn’t a dream.

It couldn’t be. He felt too real.

“P-Peter?”

The smallest of smiles pulled at the corner of his lip, eyes softening.

“Hey.” He whispered.

You sobbed out and his arms found their way around you, pulling you to him. His warmth felt like heaven. His strong frame held you up as your muscles collapsed under the weight of the revelation that Peter was alive. He was alive.

Your hands were still clawing at him, desperately trying to pull him closer even though he was already pressed to your body. Your body racked with cries, tears flowing freely. A wet spot was forming on your shoulder and your heart lurched at the realization that Peter was crying too.

You pulled away, hands cupping his face again. Your eyes ran hungrily over his features, taking in the bags under his eyes, nose red due to crying, tear tracks down his cheeks and the paleness of his skin. He looked so tired.

You didn’t hesitate to pull his face down until your lips crashed together.

You sighed at the feeling at the same time he moaned, lips moving desperately together. His arms tightened around you, supporting the small of your back. You ran your thumbs over his jaw, kisses turning into chaste and slow pecks until you finally pulled away. Foreheads pressed together, you gazed into his big browns.

“No talking.” He said. “I’m so tired.”

You nodded, smiling for the first time in a very long time. He returned it, making you breathe out shakily. God, you’d missed it so much.

The plush mattress felt warmer than it had in a long time when you lay on it now. But maybe that had a lot to do with the pliant body that took its place next to yours.


End file.
